


King of the Seven Seas

by DreamyScience



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Yeah you read that right - Fandom
Genre: Dark, Gen, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm Not Ashamed, Magic, Nightmares, Pirate England (Hetalia), Two Minds One Body, but - Freeform, personality switches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamyScience/pseuds/DreamyScience
Summary: Arthur wanted to make sure that no one punished him more than himself for all that he’d ever done, so in a way he was happy that this was happening. Maybe this was his moment of judgement.Maybe even his moment of death.When he opened that book, it breathed new life into him in the worst way.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	1. The Magick that Bit Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elizabeth3rd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth3rd/gifts).



> This is something that came about from me and my friends watching Hetalia again, and laughing at it, because we were remembering the days where this anime was lit. Next thing you know we started to realize that we kind of like it again, like, unironically. 
> 
> So all the regrets. They are in this fic.

Arthur walked into his study.

The air in the room felt as cold as the memories of the ghosts that still haunt his dreams whenever he closes his eyes. He’d woken from a nightmare moments before deciding that he would get something to read in order to help him calm down. Though whether he was in the room to torture himself, or calm down, he wasn’t quite sure yet.

Whenever he had nightmares about his pirate days, it left him with the innate urge to experience further self-torture.

Perhaps it’s his malice and sadistic ways that are still buried under the surface. Not all of it completely left. There are still pieces scattered across the world to remind him of his sins. In politics, in churches, in social injustice-

He stared at the books that stared back at him. Began to roll his fingers over a bottom shelf that he could reach. Going along each spine until he found the one that called to him.

As he pulled it out, he saw that the entire book was pitch black with golden embroidery that came together to be etched into a pentagram in the center of the cover. Skull and crossbones were in the center of the pentagram.

He wondered what the symbol meant after realizing the book was _strangely_ unfamiliar.

Somehow it managed to make him still feel nostalgic.

He sat down at his desk and opened the book slowly. It glowed with dark shadows that showed him everything he had forgotten.

Everyone knew that he dabbled in magick, but no one knew that the magick was also capable of dabbling in him at times.

This was one of those special circumstances where something, or someone was more powerful than him, and they enveloped him a darkness that he wasn’t prepared for. He could feel it taking over and changing him into a completely different person.

A past version.

Maybe it was a blessing since he often tried to go back in time to undo his sins.

Thoughts rush through him, a merge of the present and the regrets of the past. The past where humans were greedier, and fickler, and unkinder than ever before. The present leads in the country were trying to right their wrongs, but even they could be questionable with their objectives and true understanding of the world; provided some people still wanted something like _Brexit_.

Arthur wanted to make sure that no one punished him more than himself for all that he’d ever done, so in a way he was happy that this was happening. Maybe this was his moment of judgement.

Maybe even his moment of death.

When he opened that book, it breathed new life into him in the worst way.

And the Arthur of the present barely even registered when it was finally done and over with. It was more like having a bad dream than anything else.

His hair grew slightly longer, his eyes contained a devilish glint he hadn’t had since his youth, his eyebrows were unfortunately their same ridiculous size.

“Well this is. _Unexpected_. Didn’t expect something like this to be triggered by my- _bloody_ -self.”

In his head he could hear: _What the hell?!_ Ringing loud and clear like the bells of a church.

“Yeah, I honestly do not like this library either,” Pirate England claimed while looking around, “Not one bit. It’s brown and dusty. Where’s all our gold and- “

He hears the other him sigh heavily to interrupt before asking calmly: _Why is there more than one me right now?_

“Oh! That! Well love, you opened a sprig of magick meant to have me overtake the body _or bodies,_ of anyone who comes close to uncovering the dark truths of what I am, and where I’ve hidden all I’ve ever taken. You don’t remember doing that?”

He hears a depressed sigh. _I try to forget most of what I’ve done in the past._

A slow smile spreads across Pirate England’s face before he turns to look in the mirror. “ _Oh?”_ he purrs, “You aren’t proud of what we’ve accomplished? _All_ that _property_ we claimed. _All_ those people that we made _ours_?” To anyone looking from the outside he would appear to be examining himself in a mirror, but in reality, he was staring the present day Arthur down, something cold, dark and sadistic hiding behind his eyes as he asked.

“You mean to tell me you don’t _appreciate_ all that I’ve done for us? Is that right love?”

There’s a scoff in his head. His smile widens. _You’ve murdered countless innocent people, separated many families, and even destroyed some countries before they’d even been born._ He thinks of Alfred. _You’ve hurt so many of the friends that I have now._

“Not all of them were _friends_ before, so, it’s fair play.” Pirate England responds with a playful hum. “Can’t imagine you’ve been able to keep many nowadays either with this get up.” He looks down at his sweater. “A green sweater with brown trousers? Could I be _anymore_ boring?”

_Rude of you to judge us like that._

“I’m just saying we’ve looked better. Time to upgrade again. Provided we’re in our homeland. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me taking something for _free_.” His devilish smile widens.

England gasps. _We are not going to steal from anyone!_

“Oh please, it’s not like you have any say in this. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. You’ll have your body back on the morrow. This spell only lasts until daybreak.”

_Why exactly? Wouldn’t it be more productive to never give the body back?_

Pirate England smiles again, “what’s the fun in that? I find it more amusing to undo everything that my enemy has done without their recollection the next day,” a soft laugh escapes his lips, “the only reason you’re aware of me is because _you_ and _I_ are one and the same.”

_I am_ nothing _like you._ England seethes.

“ _Au contraire mon amie.”_ His playful tone drips with something ebbing on deadly and poisonous, “it would be dangerous to forget that you and I are, _exactly,_ the same.”


	2. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're all in for a wild ass ride with this fic :P. Hope whoever is reading enjoys it!

“Wow, town has wound up just as boring as our fucking library.” Pirate England mutters to himself.

He sees the same mundane thing everywhere he goes, people staring into their devices, laughing and talking in groups. _Enjoying_ themselves _peacefully_. He wonders where the fighting is, the crime and mischievous bandits around every corner, the feeling of constantly being on the run and ready to attack anyone at any given moment-

_For the 80 th time, the time period is different! Everything is different, and we don’t have to have constant battles with other countries whose land doesn’t even belong to us anymore! Stop living in this weird fantastical world up here!_

“I beg to differ.” He replies calmly.

 _If you tried anything like that now you’d have to do absolutely horrible things to the people who_ actually _care about us._

“Oh,” a smile spreads across his face, “absolutely horrible things like what?”

Arthur is silent after that.

_Nothing. Forget I said anything._

“I forget that you were in control during our little … transition,” his smile widens and grows evil, “but you have those memories … locked away, hm? What exactly did you do my pure, good-hearted other half?”

He can feel the rage that emits from Arthur, it almost leaves him stumbling and falling over.

_I told you to forget I said anything._

“Wow,” Pirate England says with a shocked look on his face, “I certainly struck a nerve there didn’t I?”

 _Yes._ Arthur seethes. _You have a habit of digging into others minds and controlling them by using the things that traumatize them the most. Just because I’m not a fan of all your tricks, doesn’t mean I don’t know what they are._

“I’m glad that not _all_ of our fire got doused out hm? Keep that fighting attitude up.”

_I don’t like the tone of your voice._

Pirate England says nothing.

_How come you get to have your nasty fingers all in my brain when I can barely reach what’s buried in yours. I’m merely relying on … the parts I didn’t black out to remember who you are._

“You have your secrets,” He stops in front of a clothing store window, “and I have mine too.” Pirate England closes his eyes, and when he opens them he’s wearing the outfit that was originally on a manikin for the display. A deep red blouse, with a black turtleneck, and beige pants.

_We- … that’s- … stealing._

Pirate England just smirks at his reflection and adjusts his new red jacket.

“What are you going to do about it?”

_Apparently … absolutely nothing._

His smile is kind and cheeky this time. Deceitfully endearing.

“Look on the bright side my moral comrade! At least I didn’t walk in to persuade anyone to give it to me. This way, they have no idea.”

_That doesn’t make things better!_

“Oh trust me it does!”

_I will just return that when I get my bloody fucking body back …_

“And when I awake in it,” his voice is low and teasing, “I’ll just steal it again.” That earns him a growl, “oh my, does that bother you?”

_Not. At. all._

“Good. I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you too. I could do worse my dear Arthur. Much worse.”

_I don’t like it when you use our name on me like that._

“It’s your bloody name isn’t it?” He says almost harshly nearly startling a woman who had been walking by. "We’re going to go and find some kind of pub tonight. At least that didn’t change for us. If anything, I’d say it probably got worse. I don’t recall craving a drink 24/7.”

_… You have no right to judge my coping mechanisms if yours involve murdering people in cold blood._

“Who said I have coping mechanisms? What is there to cope with?”

_I’ve never wanted to shut my own mouth more than today …_

***

Alfred looks at him, utterly confused as he slurs his words in his general direction as he approaches. Naturally he’s always had trouble with England’s accent, but he noticed something particularly strange about this one. It was different, sharper, more confident than usual.

That’s all he could really tell since none of Arthur’s words were making any sense.

 _Oh god …_ Arthur sighs heavily, _I forgot he was visiting._

“Well you’re a f’nny lukin one, eh? Kind of luklike this kid I f’nd not too long ago th’t I made mine once that bloody _french blote_ had run off fr’m im … just had to drive that idot aw’y.”

“Uh Arthur, you … you _do know_ me?” He had to pose it as a question, since he still wasn’t 100% sure what was being said to him in that moment.

“I cert’inlee dn’t. Aven’t seen the likes of you ‘round these parts.”

Alfred merely thinks to himself: _I have no fucking idea what’s going on._

“Did you erase your memory with your weird _magick_ thing again?”

 _I wish,_ England comments.

“I think that he’s maybe had a little too much to drink too earl- _oof_!” Francis’ comment is cut off by the feeling of pirate England’s fist in his stomach, “What the hell?!” He exclaims.

“It was a knee jerk reaction from hearing your voice.”

_We’ve established that Francis and I have some semblance of a friendship now you realize?_

_"A what?"_ Pirate England responds.

“Haha … whatever I did or forgot to do Arthur I hope you can forgive-” he pauses when he touches England’s shoulder.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Pirate England almost flinches at his touch.

_“Why the fuck can he tell I’m not you?”_

_You- what- I don’t know._

“Francis. How goes it?” Pirate England asks, suddenly sober.

“I could ask the same about you, _Arthur_.” He says his name in a strange tone.

“You guys are weird.” Alfred says as he wanders off into the crowd at the pub to socialize.

“Yes. That’s my name after all. No need to roll it over your tongue like I’m your long-lost lover.”

 _Ha._ Arthur laughs nervously, _I don’t think you should say that to him. You’d be giving him ammo._

_“I beg our fucking shit. What in the name of hell is that supposed to mean?”_

“I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t talk about those days anymore.”

There’s an awkward pause as Pirate England’s eyes widen in disbelief.

_“Him?! You mean to tell me you had relations with one of our most hated enemies in all of our history?!”_

_He said he wasn’t talking about it anymore; also, he’s getting closer._

Francis approaches Pirate England with a thoughtful hand over his chin. He looks into his eyes, and smiles.

“Seems like some of the present you is still in there, but, hello old friend. I’d know that mischievous glint anywhere. I’ve seen it too many times before you tried to take my head off.”

“Of course,” Pirate England lets out in a harsh whisper, “and I’ll try such a thing again if you so much as think of saying anything to the public-”

“Ohoho, you’re caught in the past, aren’t you? Besides how would that benefit me?” He sits down at the bar, “I’m here to enjoy some drinks with friends, not cause any sort of shitshow. I don’t know if the other you told you, but we’re friends now and no longer enemies, though I suppose our relationship will always be a bit complicated, hm?”

“I don’t-”

_“Arthur dearest?”_

_Yes, pirate bastard?_

_“What the ever-living fuck am I sensing from you- is that- of all things- shame, and embarrassment?? Are you embarrassed???”_

_Wouldn’t you be from hearing suggestive stuff said out loud like that in public?!_

_“I can’t believe you- with him of all people- ah no those memories! Get them away! I don’t even get embarrassed, and yet I can feel it coming on from this helping piece of barnacle that is this hellscape of a situation!”_

“You should sit and have a drink my friend. You’ve already freaked out Alfred so much that he didn’t even get the chance to be the one who causes trouble tonight, thus the floor is all yours.”

_“He’s reading me like a fucking book.”_

_We’re not young adults anymore, of course he is._

Pirate England sits.

“Not interested in causing trouble, I’m here to have a good time.”

“I think it’s time you stop lying and tell me why you wanted to come back as you are.”

“Tell you why-”

“I have to know because the other you had trauma so bad that your psyches had to be separated,” Francis tone is a deadly level of calm, “I see you as a threat to him, then again I’ve always seen you as a threat to everything.”

Pirate England glares at him sharply, genuine animosity behind his stare. Francis stares back, as headstrong as he’s always been.

Then he smiles, slow and evil. Francis’ expression doesn’t change as he waits his response.

 _This is going to be a long night._ Arthur sighs to himself.


End file.
